Witch Hunter

Chapter Five: Hope

Twelve soldiers clad in the finest steel stood arrayed before her.

Lilitu cast around but could not find him. She would have to overcome these attackers by herself.

All around her, the manor burned. Nearby fighting echoed in the background like a distant song; the clatter of steel formed a beat, punctuated by the occasional crescendo – an unnatural blast of light and noise.

The shiny steel's reflective quality and its physical composition as an amalgamation of different elements made it resistant to all but the deadliest of magic. Lilitu would tire too quickly if she struck down her aggressors with brute force.

"Brother!" she cried out as she backed away. "Where are you?"

Jets of fire arced back and forth around her but no one answered her call. There was only one place he could have gone.

Turning, she ran away from the courtyard where most of the fighting was taking place. As she passed through a stone archway into the Aden's Blessed Gardens, she waved her hand over her shoulder, almost absent-mindedly. Of the twelve pursuing soldiers, half were killed as the archway twisted into life, encircling most of the soldiers before crushing them like some giant stone serpent.

Not pausing to look back, she was already through the doors of the manor, heading for the balcony that surveyed the entire demesne. The soldiers caught up with her at the grand staircase, the clank of their unwieldy armour alerting her to danger.

Twisting around, she backed up the stairs with half a dozen blades pointed at her. One charged, and she flicked her wrist instinctively in his direction. With a bang that sounded like a slamming door, the soldier rocketed backward, only to get up again; battered but otherwise fine.

"Cursed steel," she mumbled, gesturing at the various paintings on the walls with a sweep of her arm. They detached themselves from their hooks and turned in perfect unison so that each was pointed, edge first, at the oncoming troops.

The soldiers figured out what was going to happen a split second before it did. She bounded up the stairs gracefully as marvellous artworks streaked past her like missiles to shatter as their heavy gilded frames collided with their targets. As she turned towards the balcony, she heard her pursuers recover. She made it through a room of valuable collections before they caught up with her again.

She turned to face four panting soldiers whose previously gleaming armour looked rather forlorn with its new dents. She looked around for more ammunition and suddenly grinned. Among the collection was a vast array of weapons, tools and cutlery. She looked at a heavy mace with relish, before turning to face the soldiers. They had tracked her gaze and were looking at the weapons too.

One of them looked at her and shook his head slowly. Then she flung her arms out and the weapons hovered up around her. The soldiers dropped their swords and ran.

Laughing, she lowered her arms and the weapons fell back to the floor around her like rain.

Hurrying through the room she reached the corridor leading to the balcony, its entire length strewn with bodies and debris; as if a tornado had raged its way through. Picking her way carefully through the treacherous path, she passed through an arch to step into a rare beam of sunlight that bathed the balcony in a peaceful glow.

Mephisto stood there calmly, with dead soldiers piled up around him and fighting still raging below, truly a human embodiment of the eye of a storm.

"Lilitu?"

"Yes, brother," she replied, coming to his side immediately.

"I've had enough of this."

"Of what?" asked Lilitu, genuinely concerned by her brother's odd tone.